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People often decry Vancouver’s rain. Having grown up here through the 80’s, my experience of the weather here is that it has had a consistent push towards hotter, brighter summers. “It’s not as rainy as its reputation,” the locals say. It used to be that I felt like I had a secret that only a few of us could ever enjoy. But for a while now, it has turned sinister. The sky cries for the desecration of this land and its waters. And it’s running out of tears. I wish it were as rainy as its reputation. Growing quickly in the hot, dry breath of August is an unsettling, bone-deep suspicion about the times that are upon us.
